A prominent financier, who was a much better business man than he was inventor, read of Moissan’s experiments in making artificial diamonds. The financier conceived the idea of converting anthracite coal directly into diamonds by subjecting it to enormous pressure of gunpowder exploded in a strong steel cylinder.

As he wished to market a large quantity of his manufactured diamonds before their artificial character should leak out, he determined to conduct his experiments very secretly; consequently, he put the man-of-all-work at his country place upon the job. This faithful and useful servant was to report the progress of the work regularly at the city office of his employer.

After trying several experiments with black gunpowder, the man reported that the scheme didn’t work—that no diamonds were produced.

The financier then told the useful that he had evidently reached the limit of power of black gunpowder.

“Now try dynamite,” said he.

There was a break in the chain of reports, and he wrote the useful, asking him why he did not report. Still no answer.

After waiting some days, the idea suddenly struck the financier that possibly the process had proved successful and that the useful planned to betray him. He accordingly sent a peremptory telegram to him to report at once on pain of discharge.

The next day a vision, swathed and bandaged and perambulating on crutches, entered his office.

“You infernal old scoundrel!” yelled the wreck, as he entered. “Blow a man up with dynamite, and then threaten to discharge him for not reporting!”